


When On Burana

by randommindtime



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alien Planet, Date?, Flirting, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-10-08 06:42:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10380771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randommindtime/pseuds/randommindtime
Summary: Rodney's not sure how he gets smack in the middle of situations before realizing they are happening.  John Sheppard suddenly offering him an alien flower with a big grin definitely qualifies.





	

**Author's Note:**

> ((I wrote something quick this afternoon ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ ?? I haven’t written anything smaller for this pair in AGES, so I was just word dumping a bit but I really loved the concept of this short story. I feel like this could actually be more thoroughly fleshed-out so if it inspires any writing of your own, please use it as a prompt!! Also, enjoy!! ))

Rodney McKay had noticed over the 34 years of his life that he had an annoying habit of landing smack in the middle of tumultuous situations before he could accurately comprehend how he had gotten there in the first place. Ok, half the time it was due to his own single-minded nature and lack of interest in social formalities, always having his nose stuffed into some tablet or book or complicated problem while the world continued to revolve relentlessly around him. Today especially, he was failing to understand how exactly he had come to be in this specific moment of his life.

On a planet, some 2.2 million light years away from Earth, in the middle of a vast and vibrant alien festival, Lt. Colonel John Sheppard was holding out a flower towards Rodney with a challenging and dopey grin on his face.

“Come on, take it,” John insisted, not wavering in his commitment. “It’s safe, I promise.”

Rodney hesitantly reached out and grasped the stem of the flower, fingertips briefly grazing over John’s before the other man let go, smile widening in his success. Rodney looked over the blossom, oddly golden and bronze, shimmering almost iridescently, before glancing back up at John.

“See, that wasn’t too hard, was it?“ John drawled, arms crossing over his chest.

“You do realize that I’m deadly allergic to pollen, right?” Rodney protested but a second later found himself sniffing at the bloom anyway, feeling no ill effects.

“I guess I’m just going to have to kill you with kindness, then.” Rodney frowned, nose still in the flower, and John rolled his eyes. “Come on, let’s see what else they have to offer.”

John put a hand on Rodney’s bicep, firm and warm, and guided him further into the loud and exuberant crowd of natives.

Burana was a peaceful and inviting planet that had somehow managed to avoid the ravage of the Wraith long enough to build themselves into an impressive and breathtaking society. Tall stone buildings and winding narrow side streets invoked memories of Istanbul or Cinque Terra, thin cobbled stone paths giving way to wide open squares. Buildings were lined with turquoise stone mosaics and copper-plated doorways, everything slightly worn like time had settled into a deep sleep there long ago. Overhead, haphazardly strung powerlines doubled as an excuse for eclectic lighting fixtures and Rodney found himself glancing upward, expecting to see the grandmothers of Tuscany stringing clothes out of their windows to dry. Small copper wiring was threaded through the stone at different levels and provided conduction all throughout the city in a rather genius (if Rodney did say so himself) way of distributing power to local homes. Form followed function on Burana and supported a society that was both smart and wise, appreciative of what the world had given them. Taking it all in, Rodney was grateful now that the Buranese had insisted all electronics be left at the entrance to the festival, otherwise he probably never would have noticed these details.

Also, John’s hand would not have slipped down into Rodney’s as they pushed through the rambunctious crowd of locals, fingers twining into his, rough callouses brushing together. A tanned and tall local woman with dark red tattoos painted across her exposed skin came close to bumping into him and he unconsciously held the flower closer to himself to prevent it from being crushed, John glancing back to make sure he was ok.

“They look like they have acrobatics over there,” John said, pointing without looking as his eyes fixed momentarily on Rodney’s chest and the flower. “Let’s take a look.”

Rodney nodded, taking in a deep breath as he suddenly became aware of the claustrophobic nature of the crowd and the buildings, his anxiety engines revving up to a 10. But then he locked eyes with John and all apprehension drained away. The man was glancing over his shoulder again, slightly breathless, eyes squinting in the sun, and there was a childlike wonder and open happiness stretched across his face that Rodney had never seen before. It made his heart strain in his chest and his own lips quirk up in a soft grin.

Rodney gripped John’s hand harder and lied to himself when he thought he’d never forgive Teyla and Ronon for leaving them alone that day. Trying to remember what lame excuse they had given when they had wandered off, Rodney’s eyes caught a glance of a towering structure peak through an alleyway and he skidded to a stop. John tugged on his hand, stuttering in place as he looked back, confused.

“Rodney?” 

Rodney grinned mischievously in response and tugged John towards him a bit, watching as John curiously obliged, his expressive eyebrows forming quirky lines of interest. Buranese streamed around them like a river pushing past a solid boulder, causing them to lose all sense of personal space, and Rodney had to blink several times to dislodge the distraction of John Sheppard being suddenly right in his face.

He cocked his head to the alleyway and John, confused again, almost didn’t look, rather transfixed on the apparent complexity of Rodney face and mouth. When he did, though, John’s eyes and face lit right back up, much like Rodney imagined they probably did the first time he’d seen such a sight.

“Are you kidding me?”

“Alien Ferris Wheel was on your bucket list, wasn’t it?”

John’s grin was almost comically sloppy as he torn his eyes away from the metal rotating structure and looked back at Rodney.

“I think I might love this planet,” John said, squeezing Rodney’s hand once before tugging him back through the crowd, cutting perpendicular this time and making a beeline for the structure.

Rodney agreed.


End file.
